


Moments Like This

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [45]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Summer, remix eligible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9346004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: He takes a swig of his beer and Merlin is momentarily distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat, the trickle of moisture down his perfectly tanned skin. He blinks when Arthur says, “Can I try something?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This is pure, unadulterated fluff, I'm afraid. I found it in my drafts folder and figured I should post something happy for a change XD

 

It’s a perfect day. Sunny, but not too hot. Just this side of cloudless. Arthur’s going shirtless, which Merlin appreciates for numerous reasons, although he knows if he tries the same thing he’ll only burn and peel and Arthur will laugh at him. Still, he has his lightest singlet on and about a tonne of sunscreen, and he’s sitting in the shade of an oak tree watching Arthur and his mates play footy in the park with a book in his lap and a cooler of beer by his side. All things considered: perfect. 

When the others finally stop to take a break, Arthur jogs over to him, tousling his own hair with one hand where it’s sticking to his forehead and making it stand up in silly little spikes. 

“Did you see me score?” he asks, because as usual he’s not happy unless he’s showing off. Merlin makes a non-committal sound and chucks him a beer.

“Wasn’t really watching.”

“Bullshit,” Arthur says, flopping down onto the grass beside him. “You’re always watching.”

He is, actually, but he’s pretty sure admitting it would make him sound unreasonably besotted so instead he just shrugs. Arthur holds the perspiring bottle of beer up against his cheeks, but he doesn’t seem too bothered by Merlin’s indifference. 

“I don’t know why you insist on coming to these things, Merlin,” he says, nudging Merlin’s leg with his foot. “I bet you don’t even know the rules of football.”

Merlin sits up straight, mouth open in indignation. “Excuse me, _I_ insist on coming? You’re the one who practically dragged me here just so that you’d have an audience, you ass.”

“Rubbish,” Arthur says, mouth twitching. “I did no such thing.”

He takes a swig of his beer and Merlin is momentarily distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat, the trickle of moisture down his perfectly tanned skin. He blinks when Arthur says, “Can I try something?”

“Huh?”

He looks up and Arthur’s watching him, a considering expression on his face. “Can I try something?”

“You’re not going to tip beer over my head, are you?” Merlin asks suspiciously, and Arthur snorts a laugh, putting the beer down by Merlin’s feet. 

“Honestly Merlin, I don’t know where you get these ideas sometimes. As if I would.”

“You would,” Merlin says with conviction, but Arthur is almost close enough to touch, now, leaning towards him with both palms flat on the grass, and Merlin’s breath seems to have gotten caught in his throat, his heart beating rapidly in his chest like it’s about to take flight. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” Arthur says, and Merlin’s mouth closes of its own accord. Arthur leans in — Merlin can feel his breath, smell the alcohol on it, almost sweet. His eyes flick up to Arthur’s and oh god, Arthur is looking at his mouth, moving even closer, and then they’re kissing and Merlin’s fairly sure the world stops turning for a second or two just so that he can take this in. 

Arthur’s lips are soft, a little chapped. There’s only a light pressure at first, tentative, caressing, gentle, and then Merlin angles his head just right and they fit together like puzzle pieces, Arthur’s tongue sliding into his mouth, Arthur’s lips smooth against his own. Cicadas are buzzing somewhere in the trees and he can feel _everything_ , the small sticks and stones beneath him, the hard bark of the trunk at his back — and Arthur.

It seems to take several minutes before Arthur pulls back and looks at him, but in reality Merlin guesses it’s probably only a few seconds. 

“Merlin?” 

“Sorry,” Merlin says, breathless. “I’m not — where did that come from?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Arthur says, shrugging. He crosses his legs on the grass beside Merlin, eyes still on his face, studying him. “Haven’t you?”

“I — “ Merlin can’t think; the words are all tangled up in his head. “I guess so?”

Arthur looks down and glances away, Merlin’s hesitancy sending uncertainty creeping back into his face.

“I just thought,” he says. “Usually, when I’m playing, you come along and watch me. Like, when I look up, you’ll be over here not even reading, and Gwaine said — “

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupts, reaching out to touch his hand. Arthur’s gaze flicks back to his involuntarily, wide-eyed and very blue. “Yes, I have thought about it. I just figured it would never happen.” He smiles wryly. “You surprised me.”

“Oh.” A slow smile curls Arthur’s mouth at the corners. Sunlight is filtering through the leaves from the tree above them, dappling his face with sunshine and shadow, making him look half submerged in the warm afternoon light. “So, was it how you imagined it, then?”

Merlin smiles back. “I was kind of picturing fewer clothes,” he says. “And fewer potential onlookers.”

Arthur laughs, tipping back his head, and Merlin is once again rendered helpless by how golden he looks, the undeniable physicality of him. He really is stupidly gone for the man.

“We can arrange that,” Arthur says, regaining his breath. He’s grinning at Merlin, eyes crinkling, waggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. “What d’you say to you, me, and a movie we’ll pretend to watch for all of five minutes?”

“Arthur Pendragon, are you inviting me home for Netflix and chill?” Merlin asks in mock outrage, placing a hand to his chest.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Arthur shrugs, confident now. “Do you want to come home with me so I can shag you senseless, or what?”

Merlin grins back at him, scrambling in a rush to pack up his things. “Do you even have to ask?”


End file.
